


Queen's Gambit

by BlueKiwi, LyraNgalia



Series: Murder on the Hogwarts Express [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Harry Potter AU, Marauders' Era, Potterlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 10:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueKiwi/pseuds/BlueKiwi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyraNgalia/pseuds/LyraNgalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon discovering yet another mystery within Hogwarts' student body, Irene decides what the Slytherin dungeon really needs is a healthy dose of competition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queen's Gambit

Irene swept her way through the corridors of Hogwarts Castle imperiously, a smirk on her lips as students studiously avoided her eye. A flock of first year Gryffindors scurried by, and she amused herself briefly watching them. Angela Connolly, liked to lose herself in the Muggle novels she hid within her school books. Kevin Finn, adored the Quidditch team and was desperately trying to develop a crush on the Connolly girl to avoid examining the crush he had on James Addison, the Gryffindor Beater.  
  
And shy little Alice Watkins, with her harsh American vowels that her overbearing English mother has yet to erase from her voice. Shy little thing, looking for friends. She glanced up, and Irene met her eye. The girl clearly had not heard from the other students of Irene's reputation, because she gave the Slytherin a shy, open smile.  
  
Irene smiled back, falsely warm, and a look of wild hope bloomed on Alice's face, her eyes lingering as she followed her friends away. Irene made a mental note to keep an eye on Alice. First years were, in general, too young to provoke any interesting scandal or secrets, but they did grow up quickly.  
  
Turning down another twisting hall, Irene paused in front of an old, heavy tapestry and waited until something stirred behind the tapestry and a small, piping voice whispered. She listened intently for a moment, then nodded and murmured something almost inaudible back to the tapestry. The shape behind it practically quivered with excitement and a thin brown hand appeared, offering a brightly polished red apple.  
  
Irene took it, slipped it into her pocket, and headed to the Owlery, where the house elf had said one Jim Moriarty had been last seen just moments ago.  
  
  
Moriarty's current whereabouts had less to do with choice and more to do with sheer and complete boredom.

The term was hardly a few weeks old, and he had already disgustedly tossed several wayward plans to the side. Sure, they would have been amusing for a short while, but all of the students this year were so uncompromisingly _dull_. The professors had given up on attempting to discipline him and where was the fun of causing chaos if said teachers were just going to turn a blind eye to him? Besides, his main goal - long-term and far more complicated than anyone would have thought Moriarty would be capable of devising - occurred just beyond the walls of Hogwarts. It kept him from going completely mad ( _madder_ , he corrected with a inward roll of his eyes) and he knew that the payoff would be far more entertaining than a few months of tossing silly hexes up and down the hallway.

One of the owls that stood out from the rest due to its completely black plumage swooped down from the shadows above to land on the windowsill, right at his elbow. He let out a long, exaggerated sigh and gestured lazily to the owl, who only cocked its head to the side before taking off into the morning fog.  
  
  
"My, how the mighty have fallen."  
  
Irene's voice drifted up to the Owlery accompanied by her footsteps as the pure black owl swooped away on silent wings. "Reduced from chess to playing puppet-master of owls, Jim?" she asked as she stepped into the doorway of the Owlery, the diffuse morning light edging her silhouette in sharp contrast.  
  
  
Moriarty didn't even bother to look behind him and when he spoke, his tone was annoyed.

"That house elf runs fast."

  
  
She laughed and stepped into the Owlery proper. At her presence, a white owl spotted with auburn/ginger, swooped down to her shoulder and hooted, pleased at the pat on the head she gave it.  
  
"Might almost say it was magic."  
  
  
"Seems rather beneath you after that incident last month," came the drawled reply. Moriarty tilted his head slightly, not quite looking back at her. "That was a spectacular backfire, I must admit. Have a belated 'bravo'."  
  
  
The fact that he didn't look directly at her did not keep Irene from forcing her expression to neutrality. "From your perspective, perhaps," she answered coolly, walking over to the wall where a basket held owl treats and dangled one in front of her owl, who hooted obediently, stretching out her body in anticipation.  
  
"But then I'm not you, dear."  
  
  
"From the persepctive of anyone with sense." Moriarty shrugged. "It was _extraordinarily_ sloppy of you, Miss Adler." He then spun to face her, leaning back on the windowsill on his elbows. His dark eyes simmered with that same barely-controlled insanity that caused most of the students at Hogwarts to avoid his gaze.

"Now, I suppose you want something. I _do_ hope it's worth my time."  
  
  
"Only if you knew where to look, and there aren't that many in this place who do," she countered again. The owl on her shoulder craned its body for the treat again, and after another moment, Irene let it drop, watching as Kate crunched the treat in her beak. Irene deliberately waited until the owl was finished and had taken off back into her roost again, before brushing off her fingers.  
  
"I never want anything from you, Jim, we both know you're not my type. But I have a puzzle, and it seems only fair to give you a crack at it first."  
  
  
Moriarty snorted. "You keep telling yourself that, dear. You hoard secrets like a miser and you've always known I've set you on track to some of the best ones." Whether or not he considered it leverage was another matter - Moriarty found no need for the protection that Irene gathered around herself like some sort of impenetrable cloak. There were far easier ways to manipulate people. "And what makes you think I'm interested in your little puzzle?"   
  
  
She smiled and drew her white hawthorn wand out from the folds of her robe, running her fingertips along the pale smooth length. A purple spark, tiny and intense as a miniature sun, jumped between her finger and the wandtip.

"Oh, I doubt you're interested at all. But Sherlock Holmes will be, and... well, we both know how much you enjoy making trouble for those boys."  
  
  
"Miss Adler," Moriarty replied, rolling his eyes, "let me put it in smaller words that you would understand - I. Don't. _Care_." He then wrinkled his nose at her wand, as if completely unimpressed with her lazy display of power. There were times when Irene Adler could be disgustingly unsubtle.  
  
  
She tsked in response. "You wouldn't be gauche enough to _care_ , Jim, we both know that," she answered. "But I thought you'd like to know that someone, and not one of your little lackeys, is making quite the stockpile of wolfsbane. Unless you're interested in a little competition now..."  
  
  
He watched her, unblinking, his head slowly tilting to the side. "You're of the opinion that things can happen at this school without me knowing about it." He leaned forward into Irene's personal space, eyes glittering. "Now what little treasure do you think you've uncovered, Miss Adler, that you're _so_ eager to set us against each other?"  
  
  
"Pride before a fall, dear. As much as I appreciate the extent of your web, I expect there are still a few places you haven't been able to keep webs in. Not with how _meticulous_ those house elves can be," Irene answered, stepping over to the window, leaning her back against the wall beside said window.

"Maybe I'm just bored, Jim, and could use some actual entertaining, rather than watching that Ravenclaw prefect's hopes and dream for the ministry crumble into dust."  
  
  
"Cliches? Really?" Moriarty crossed his arms. "What exactly is at the end of this so-called competition? Hardly worth my time if I can't use this information."  
  
  
She raised a single perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Trying to convince me there's information out there you can't use?" she countered.

Irene smirked, gesturing out the window with the hawthorn wand. "Bragging rights, pet. Personal satisfaction. The knowledge that you're playing against Sherlock Holmes. A little more information for you about how he ticks. That should be worth something, I think." She leaves unsaid the implication that he might lose.  
  
  
"There's information less valuable to me than some," he corrected in a blase tone, absently waving his hand. "Why waste my time with that when I can throw the bare bones to the dogs?" Another game against the infamous Sherlock Holmes was very tempting though - he could use that to spin his other plot into play. And if Miss Adler's secret was as damning as she thought it was...

"Now - whose life are you trying to sink your pretty little claws into?"  
  
  
She smiled at that. She knew where to look, knew what people _liked_ , and it was obvious to her that despite Moriarty's initial blasé tone, his question spoke of far more interest, in seeking out information.

She tsked. "Now now, that'd be telling. And you're not playing the game with _me_ until you start with him."  
  
  
Moriarty grinned at Irene, black madness sparking in his eyes. "Miss Adler, a game with you would be horribly frustrating and exhausting and I'm afraid I'd only end up wringing your neck in homicidal rage." There was no jest in his words - Moriarty's reputation spoke for itself and he knew it. He tapped her on the nose in what would have been a playful gesture if it had been _anyone_ except the two of them. "You love the idea of causing chaos to descend on this school - it's almost adorable."  
  
  
Her eyes narrowed at the uninvited touch, and the second his fingertip left her nose, another spark, this one emerald green and buzzing, leaped from her nose to his fingertip, the like zapping oneself on a crisp dry day, but with the added benefit that it momentarily numbed the recipient's finger.

"The school doesn't matter," she answered with a sickle sharp blood red smile. ""It's just in the way of making them squirm."  
  
  
The sudden numbness to his hand was unpleasant though not unexpected - he recalled that she _did_ have a tendency to show off, something he certainly had to keep in mind for next time. He shrugged it off though, frowning curiously as he turned his hand every which way to examine it. "Yes, yes - I'm sure. The little queen on her little throne, ruling the minions. How could I forget? I think you may owe me."  
  
  
She laughed, at that. "Presumptuous, Jim, too presumptuous," she admonished. "But then boys tend to be. I _may_ owe you, if you manage to win the game."  
  
  
"And I may still say no," Moriarty shrugged, taking a step towards Irene so that he was nearly nose-to-nose with her. "Your reasoning has always been rather...duplicitous, and you still haven't given me a reason other than the temptation of Sherlock Holmes to take on this little task of yours." His brows furrowed as he met her gaze, unblinking.

And then he grinned, sudden and fierce and almost unnaturally cheery. _Oh, Miss Adler. Don't you think you're a clever little twit?_ "And isn't that enough? Of _course_ I'll play your game."

  
  
Rather than flinching at his continued invasion into her personal space, Irene simply straightened her spine and raised an eyebrow at his closeness. "You're unpredictable, dear," she answered in a lazy drawl. A lie, as far as she was concerned. "How was I to know you wouldn't simply enjoy playing hard to get this time around?"  
  
He let out a bark of laughter. "Why, Miss Adler - are you saying that you were looking forward to a chase? I'm _flattered_."  
  
  
She tsked and stepped away from him, heading towards the door of the Owlery once again. She answered negligently over her shoulder, "I'd say I always look forward to our little moments together, Jim, but then you'd know I was lying."  
  
"You keep telling yourself that, Miss Adler."

 

He watched her go, the smile from before slowly slipping into a frown. Clearly, there was more to this little competition than just amusement for her, and he had an idea of what she was trying to obtain from it. Of course, that only made the temptation so much sweeter. He tapped his fingers to his lips thoughtfully.

Well, if Irene Adler wanted to play amongst the giants, she was going to have to learn to think several steps ahead of Moriarty himself. Such a good thing too - Moriarty considered himself to be an _excellent_ teacher.

 


End file.
